


Odd Integers

by DetectiveAtWork



Category: Fantastic Four (Movies)
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 17:02:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16163147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveAtWork/pseuds/DetectiveAtWork
Summary: There is no more mischief, the building is too quiet now.Ben misses his friend.





	Odd Integers

**Author's Note:**

> Had this story for awhile now (I'm an avid FF user, would not recommend seeing my page though because its my childhood crappy writing) and decided to post. I'm not like an overeager Fantastic Four fan, but I watched twenty minutes of the first movie and this happened. Lemme know what you think, I guess?

His eyes are starting to split open as warmth comes from a orange source. Something tickles his face. Ben recognizes this sensation, this certainly isn't the first time -or the last time- and so Ben cracks open an eye and smacks his face, expecting it to be covered with goo, or shaving cream. He jerks up.

 

"Jo-" The warmth is just the sun. He stops and his rock body slumps realizing it was just an itch and the words get caught in his throat. It's useless to call that name in this house anymore. The realization seeps into his rock as he confronts yet another day.

 

Johnny is dead.

 

Susan took this very hard, everybody did, but they all understood his sacrifice and that Johnny is the reason that they're standing here today. It's hard, but they do what they have to. They protect this world, so that if some miracle were to happen and Johnny would be here today, he would be able to live in it and enjoy it. 

 

He and Johnny may have had their misunderstandings, but he's not gonna lie, he misses the kid. He was always there, joking, prodding, but he always treated him like everybody else. He always managed to leave him less angry and less self conscious, regardless of the jokes he had said. He sometimes was an egotistical jerk, but deep inside his flames, he had a kind heart. He always saw the best in other people, who weren't evil, and Ben had just started to realize that that flame of his was just a reflection of his emotion. The way he  _ truly _ was. He didn't have to  _ die _ .

 

He remembers seeing his face as the hope drained from his eyes, only to replaced by steely fierceness. His words were a measly,  _ "Flame on," _ as he attacked. His body engulfed in flame and he swerved and dodged. Ben definitely remembers the guttural sound coming from him as he was hit and started to fall, thousands of feet. He remembers the body, he was the first there holding him in his arms after finding him saying, "You did good, kid." He remembers- he stops himself. He doesn’t want to go down that road anymore.

 

Ben's feet hit the floor and he looks over to the doorway, seeing ghosts. He pictures Johnny walking in, saying something completely absurd, only to have Ben chase after him, laughter filling the hallways. There's not much of that anymore.

 

He hates the fact that there's no young spirit in the tower. Everything feels old and weary. He needs somebody who at least smiles and laughs only the way a young person can laugh, with all their heart, with glee. Everytime he hears the word 'Pebbles,' he just doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. There's an absence of mischief as well, and it feels so empty. He misses waking up to find a box of 'Fruity Pebbles,' near him and hearing things like, "Looks like that rockslide finally worked, you got little pebbles." He would normally chase after him. It takes a lot just to get out of bed now.

 

Ben misses the days where he could walk into the kitchen and Susan wouldn't be crying and Reed wouldn't be looking so distraught. Nobody smiles anymore, and when they do, it's a distant smile of a distant memory, not something in the present. He wants to see him come into the kitchen, barely dressed because he accidentally burnt his clothes off, telling them a humorous story as he bites into an apple.

 

Ben thumps to his room, for he had fallen asleep on the couch, and passes a cracked open door, revealing Johnny's room. He pauses and takes a look at the shirts that lie here and there, his beloved action figure set of the four of them, his sheets all rumpled and bed unmade- it's just too normal. The posters are still hung, some of cars and some of the four of them.

 

He hates that his last memory of Johnny has to be him spitting up blood onto his rock and giving him a shaky smile and saying, "Who's gonna call you pebbles now?" and continue to wheeze on him, jerking with each breath until his last. He won't forget Reed and Susan's faces as they ran over desperately crying, begging him to wake up. Trying to find a solution. Except nothing could be done.

 

Ben knows he's crazy when he says he'll miss the future. He will miss the days that never come, the battles never fought with his friend. He won't be able to look forward to little moments, when Johnny would make them laugh before battle, little comments that become jokes and stories for the future. He wants to see if the kid would've ever settled down and maybe started a family, so there'd be more to _ their  _ family. Almost every time he looks at fire he he hears things and sees things that should be said and done, but they won't.

 

He misses his friend.

 

He shakes his head, he misses a lot of things, and hates many as well. There is one thing he now hates the most though.

 

_ Odd numbers. _

  
  



End file.
